𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬

𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

"Romantic companions?" Sherlock scoffed, averting his focus to a rather superiorly intriguing speck of dust on his left thumbnail.

"Well, you said it yourself- you didn't want to have titles forced upon us. I'm just doing what you want, maybe hoping that you'd return the favour!" 

Brow furrowing, Sherlock sat up, looking at Y/n. "Return the favour? Well, what do you want me to do?"

Y/n sighed, glaring into his eyes, "I've already said, I want you to eat something." 

Sherlock rolled his eyes, reaching over the counter for a cloth. "Why are you so desperate for me to eat?"

"Because I care about you! Why is it so hard for you to understand?" Y/n's voice cracked on the last word, her anger beginning to morph into exasperation and hurt. 

He stayed silent, fumbling with his equipment. Eventually, he looked back up at her, "because caring is pointless. It doesn't make any difference in the process of life."

Y/n eyebrows lowered with hurt. "What are you saying?" 

Sherlock sighed, "I'm saying that there is no point you caring about me. It won't save my life and neither will caring about you save yours."

Tears began to prick in Y/n's eyes but she kept them on Sherlock's, staring him down. "So you're saying that you don't care about me?" Her voice was a fragile whisper, a hairbreadth away from being utterly broken. 

"That's not what I meant-"

"Oh, I think you did mean that." 

They stood, watching each other. Y/n now realised that the line between hating someone and loving someone was very thin indeed. The tears slipped down her cheeks, speaking more to Sherlock than words could say. He exhaled lightly, stepping towards her. 

"Y/n, listen-"

"No, you listen, Sherlock," Y/n cried, stabbing a finger at him, "caring is not optional. Because I'll tell you something, if I had the choice, I wouldn't care about you. You hurt me over and over again. You hurt John over and over again. He does so much for you and you do so little for him. I know that you don't care about me, I get that, okay? But no matter what you say, I am never going to stop caring about you. Ever. No matter what you say, I will always care about you. Because even though you are so careless and so hurtful and so inconsiderate, I love you. But I can't keep living like this, I can't. Do you have any idea what it's like to love someone so much but have them treat you like you're just some nuisance? Because it kills. Every day. Every second." 

Her words had morphed into waves of broken sobs, shaking her shoulders and racking her ribs. 

Sherlock watched her, his face a blank canvas and he desperately tried to hide any emotion. All those words flashed through his mind, everything he wanted to tell her. He wanted to say that he loved her too and everything about it. He loved it when she tucked a pencil behind her ear then spent hours searching for it while he smirked from the corner. He loved it when she laughed and threw her head back, her eyes streaming with joy. And he loved it when she said that she loved him. But he held all those words back because she needed to go. She needed to be safe. She needed to stop loving him. 

Even though he knew his words would break her, he refused to say anything other. Because Y/n was the most important thing in his life and she always would be. But she had to leave and find someone better to love, someone kinder...someone who deserved her. He looked at her, his face void of emotion. 

"I don't care."

Sherlock dropped his gaze as she sobbed, clenching his fists and fighting the instinct to hold her. 

Y/n sobs began to melt into sniffles as she regained her calm, lifting her raw red eyes to meet his. 

"I'm going to stay at John's tonight," she said softly. "We'll talk in the morning." 

"No." His voice was almost a whisper, his body fighting the decision his heart had made. He dug his fingernails deep into his skin as she nodded lightly, walking towards the door. 

He wanted to call after her so badly, desperate to hold her and calm her and tell her the truth. 

But he did what he thought he needed to do, even if it killed him. 

He let her go.